


i'm your satellite

by perhapssoon



Category: Splatoon
Genre: M/M, fanchild belongs to friend of mine, give her what she deserves, nonlinear storytelling, oc is a fanchild, they be good parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 18:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16497929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapssoon/pseuds/perhapssoon
Summary: Esmerelda never really discovered her confidence. There's a first time for everything.





	i'm your satellite

He finds her in her usual spot: sitting at Manta Maria, legs dangling over the grate as she taps away on her phone.

At the sound of his footsteps, she looks up. "Oh. Hey Dad."

"Hey." He sits next to her, the salt spray splashing over his legs, making them tingle. "You good?"

"Yeah." She looks away from him to glance at her screen, but he notices her phone is off. "I'm fine."

* * *

 

 ---

She doesn't know why she chose Bamboozler. Maybe it was because her dad had used it before. Maybe it was because her father was such a good shot with a charger she wanted to try as well. But whatever the reason, she sucks at using it.

The voices followed her everywhere.

_"What kind of charger user doesn't even know how to snipe?"_

_"Her dad was a really good shot. Her other dad used to use the Bamboozler too. Is there something wrong with her?"_

She pretends she can't hear them.

She wants to disappear.

 ---

She chooses the N-Zap a week later. She's slightly better at short-range weapons, but she realizes she hates being in the thick of battle. She gets splatted way more often, and she hates being a front-liner.

She eventually just stops battling, even though her friends beg her to join them at the Shoal.

She doesn't know what to do.

 ---

"You know that you're good at charger, right?" he asks her eventually, and she looks over at him, an expression of disbelief crossing her features.

"No, you're kidding. I'm terrible at it."

"But so was Half-Rim when he first started. As was N-Pacer, Headphones...maybe even Skull. Things like that take practice."

He pauses and then gets an idea. "Maybe your mom--sorry I mean Pops can help you? Have you asked him?"

"No." She gets a look of determination in her eyes and stands, pushing her phone into her hoodie pocket. "I'll ask."

"That's my girl."

 ---

She never expected to get a dad, much less two. She has been at the orphanage as long as she could remember being above surface, partially because her birth parents were dead and partially because she was an Octoling. Proper procedure was all it was.

So she stayed for a while. Made friends. They came and went, but she never went anywhere.

She started to believe that she would stay there forever.

 ---

"Hey, uh," She glances around to make sure no one is here; there are a few Inklings lingering in the back of the place. "Pops?"

He turns to her, blinking at her in his inexpressive way. "Yeah. You need something?"

She hesitates. She's never asked for help on using a weapon before and it scares her a bit. "Could-could you help me learn Bamboozler?"

His expression shifts; it's not a complete smile, but it isn't devoid of emotion either. It's like he..was waiting for her to ask. "Of course."

 ---

And then  _they_  came in. Her future parents. She had to do a double take because honestly, they seemed like total opposites of each other.

One energetic and looking around excitedly -- she wanted to remind him that this was an orphanage -- and the other deadpan and handling all the paperwork.

"Yeah, we want her," she overheard them say. Probably the more excitable one. He sounded more happy, a bit cheerful.

"Are you sure?  _Her_?" The contempt in the headmistress' voice was obvious, but the other Inkling spoke over her, much to Esmeralda's delight.

"Yes. We're sure."

"May I just remind you that this Octoling hasn't--"

"We don't care. We signed the papers."

There's a sigh and the headmistress stands, chair screeching against the floor. "I'll go get her."

 ---

She learns very quickly. She learns how to snapshot, when to hide and to move, and to know her range.

"You're more of a backliner; you're there to support your team. So you should target players that are making it harder for your team to push forward. Either that, or ink turf." he gestures to the ground as if to make his point. "You think you got it?"

"Yeah," she says honestly, hefting her charger to her shoulder to take aim at a practice dummy. "I got it."

 ---

When she gets adopted, she learns many things. One, that her parents were both on the same Turf Team. Two, that they actually were literal opposites of each other. Three: they loved each other, and her, to pieces.

They never spoiled her, but she was fine with that. She wanted to learn things on her own.

 ---

One thing she loved to do in her time at the orphanage was to explore. She discovered a staircase leading up to the roof and used it as an escape route until the headmistress found out and closed it off.

She then realized that the basement has a secret chamber hidden behind the washing machine and things spiraled down from there.

She had a tendency to get in trouble, and she didn't really care. Not until her new parents anyway.

 ---

Disappointment is something she's afraid of. She doesn't want to let down her parents.

But the problem is, she has gone through too many families in the past week. The headmistress is getting annoyed.

"Why won't you give anyone a chance, hun?"

She scowls and replies, "Because they won't give  _me_  one."

 ---

She starts referring to Gloves and Half-Rim as her real parents. Her old ones don't deserve the title anyway.

Gloves reminds her of a child, the way he acts and his energy level is very near her own. But he helps her a lot more than she expects, and she finds that if she ever has issues, she always goes to him. No question. She found a bottle of coffee in the sink, one of those ones that you buy from the supermarket, along with an energy drink. Now she doesn't really question where he gets his energy from.

Half-Rim she thinks as her mom. She called him that once when he was scolding her on leaving her gear everywhere but he just rolled with it. He does most of the housework around the place, and she caught him passed out on the couch after her seventh birthday party. She appreciated him more after that.

\--- 

She gets back into her team, and the team leader allows her to choose the color of their set ink; that's how happy they were, they told her.

She becomes a formidable force on the battlefield, back-lining and front-lining like there is no tomorrow.

Her dads watch her from the stands; Gloves screaming encouragement and Half-Rim sitting back in his seat, the faintest trace of a smile crossing his features.

She doesn't look at them; she doesn't want to be embarrassed. But still, she's smiling as her team respawns to start the match.

She's got this.


End file.
